


when the world crashes down (but you're left standing)

by NatureGirl202



Series: to climb with a fear of falling [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: "part 16" oi vey lol, Death of Clan Lavellan, F/M, Multi, angst angst angst lol, male lavellan belongs to my sister, mentioned dorian/male lavellan, no worries reading anything before this isn't required :P, takes place in a dual au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 05:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11247189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatureGirl202/pseuds/NatureGirl202
Summary: The sun is shining and the long grass is blowing in the breeze while birds chirp in the background. It would be peaceful, were it not for the blood staining the white leather of her armor.





	when the world crashes down (but you're left standing)

The news comes when the sun is fading, message concealed in an unassuming envelope, carried in by one of Leliana’s ravens. Now, the three advisors stand at the War Table, each staring at the note. Josephine has tears in her eyes and Leliana’s face is hardened, though her eyes scream of empathy. Cullen can feel the dread seeping into his stomach as his hands clench in a useless attempt to stop their shaking.

They have to tell her. He doesn’t want to, would much rather just reverse time and stop this whole disaster from having happened. It feels like only the other day when she had taken him to meet them all. He knows through meeting them and through the stories she’d told him during their late nights wandering the barracks—and more recently, their late nights in bed—that her clan had been through rough times, as he suspects any Dalish clan has. They had persevered, though, showing such an optimistic outlook that even he had been surprised. It isn’t _right_ , for it to have ended like this, for them to have met their fate in such a manner and so soon.

The door opens and he and Josephine both jump, despite having called for both of the Inquisitors. His stomach drops when he sees Aya. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He doesn’t want her to face this, to have such a loss be a part of her reality. He wants to shield her from this, right here and right now. He wants to go back and throw his body between those Marchers and the elves, if only to spare her from this moment.

She stops in the doorway, mouth open as if to speak, but frozen by their expressions. After a thick moment of silence, she speaks. “What is it?” Her tone and face become that of the Inquisitor, ready to handle whatever unfortunate business has come up. Only this information does not concern the Inquisitor. It concerns _Aya_ and her brother, who they’d been hoping would show up at the same time, so that they may tell them both at once. But only Aya is here and she’s walking toward them and they cannot stall this.

“Aya” he says and his voice feels thick with the urges he’s holding back. He wants to hold her, shelter her from what’s coming, from what has already happened. She freezes at his voice, and he can tell that his open use of her name in front of the others has clued her in, that this is _personal_.

“Inquisitor” Leliana takes over, the only one capable of keeping a professional composure at the moment. There is still something about the woman’s voice, soft almost, as if she’s afraid of breaking the elf. Aya’s eyes snap to the other woman. “Clan Lavellan… is gone. I am sorry.”

There’s a moment of absolute stillness. No one moves, he’s not even sure if anyone breathes. Then, she finally speaks and her words are quick, almost brutal. “My father?” The deafening silence is enough. Cullen thinks of the man with kind eyes and quiet wit as surprising as his daughter’s. “My mother?” The silence continues and Cullen remembers the soft woman who was a mother to Aya in all ways but blood. “No.” She’s shaking her head, but then her eyes are landing on the paper in front of them and she’s suddenly moving, rounding the table with a speed she normally seems to reserve for the battlefield. She snatches the paper before anyone can stop her, let alone decide whether or not they should.

He watches as her eyes scan furiously over the words which he’s memorized at this point. By her fourth read through, her hands begin to shake and she’s muttering what sounds like denials in Elven

He and Josephine startle once more when the door suddenly opens, crashing into the moment. Aya, though, freezes, locking into place. She doesn’t even look up as the others turn to face Galen, her brother. The younger man instantly seems to pick up on the atmosphere of the room, stopping halfway through the door.

Before anyone has a chance to speak, Aya does so, detached tone causing him concern: “I would like a moment with my brother.” There is no request in her voice, merely an order.

Leliana give a small nod. “Of course, Inquisitor.” She puts her hand lightly on Josephine’s elbow, guiding the other woman out. Cullen hesitates, every inch of him screaming not leave her, to _stay_ and provide whatever comfort he can. She doesn’t look to him, though, vacant gaze on the far wall over his shoulder. He knows, as well, that he has to respect her decision to tell her brother herself.

So, hands aching with the need to reach out to her, he leaves, pressing a hand to the shoulder of a confused and concerned Galen as he passes. Then, the door shuts behind him and, not for the first time in his life, he has no idea what to do.

* * *

He doesn’t see her for the rest of the day. The sun sets without him having laid eyes on her since that meeting. She is not with her brother, the young man having been holed up in his room with Dorian since getting the news. He checks her favorite spots, all of the high and secluded ones that made him concerned he’d break his neck while investigating them. She’s not in any of them either way. No one has seen her, either. They all promise to let him know if they do, even Sera, who has been known for giving him a hard time about, well, everything.

He enters his office, more mentally exhausted than anything else—once more, nothing new. He runs a hand down his face and eyes the stacks of paperwork on his desk. The mere thought of doing it gives him a splitting headache, though, so he resolves to just wake up early tomorrow to catch up. He climbs the ladder to his chambers and freezes as soon as he gets up there. Aya’s sitting on his bed, the moonlight from the hole in his roof illuminating her. She’s not moving, just sitting cross-legged and staring vacantly at the wall. He takes a step forward, foot purposefully hitting a creaky board so as to give away his presence. Her head snaps toward him and for a moment, they simply stare at each other.

Then it happens: her shoulders begin to shake and her lips tremble and her eyes well up and then the most heart-wrenching sob is ripping its way through her lips. He’s at her side immediately, wrapping his arms around her. She clings to him and her tears soak into his mantle as her sobs increase. She speaks in Elven in-between her sobs, and he can barely understand them through the measly Elven she’d been teaching him. The clearest ones were those for _father_ and _mother_ and _family_.

She doesn’t fall asleep until the beginnings of the sunlight are poking over the horizon. He only manages a couple hours himself, but when he wakes, she’s gone. Her side of the bed is cold and the chill that runs through him is from the morning breeze or a quiet suspicion sinking its way into his conscious. Though he realizes these aren’t typical times, this isn’t a normal occurrence. Between the two of them, he’s always been the early riser. She usually attempts to bury herself into the covers to catch whatever extra time he has before he manages to ply her out with either logic or some promise she can’t refuse.

He puts off his reports and other duties to look for her. Once more, he can’t find her anywhere. Her brother, even, still hasn’t seen her since she delivered him the news and Cullen feels something sink into his gut at the thought that whatever she’s doing is enough to keep her away from the person who’s, arguably, of the most importance to her.

His slowly rising panic really sets in when he find her hart gone, along with her armor and weapons. There are no scheduled outings and all of her companions are _here_. It’s possible she just went out for a stroll, to gather her thoughts and be alone. But she’s never been one to wander far, even when they were based in the more open grounds of Haven.

He’s in her room, pacing after having just discovered all of her missing daggers—even the one she always keeps strapped under her bed, the one under her desk, and the one she stashed in a hole she carved herself into her doorway—when Leliana is suddenly there, standing at the top of the stairs and he’s glad he only startles slightly, mostly used to the spymaster’s silent movement.

She has her typical, neutral look, but there’s a look in her eyes that tells him she knows. She knows where Aya is.

“Where is she?” he asks, his ever growing concern leaking into his voice.

Leliana lets out a breath. “I believe you already know.”

He _does_ , he just hadn’t wanted to be right. “She’s not vengeful.” He knows this, has known this since Haven. She believes in fair justice, would rather take someone’s hand than their life. She’d even argued against her brother’s execution of Erimond—more so for her brother’s sake, admittedly.

“The line between vengeance and justice can get quite blurry, wouldn’t you say, Commander?”

His eyes narrowed. “What did you say to her?”

 

 

_Her hart’s hoof stamps against the ground and he looks a second away from letting out one of his signature bellows. She quickly hushes the creature, placing her unmarked palm on his muzzle as she murmured comforting words in Elven._

_She needs to get moving. The sky is pink with early morning and soon all of Skyhold will be rising. Her window to leave without a guard noticing her will open in five minutes and last only ten seconds._

_"Inqusitor?” She jumps at Leliana’s voice and silently berates herself. It’s been a while since she’s been successfully snuck up on, but she supposes it’s not as if she’s in best condition. She clears her throat and turns to face the other woman, putting her shoulder back and tilting her chin up the slightest bit in the way that says “leader” and will hopefully give nothing away._

_"Yes, Leliana?” She can tell just by looking into Leliana’s intelligent eyes, though, that she knows exactly what she’s up to. The spymaster takes a step forward, a piece of paper in an outstretched hand. Aya takes it hesitantly, unrolling it to reveal a map with a route to Wycome traced along it. Shocked, Aya looks up, eyes questioning._

_"It is the quickest route.”_

_"I…” She doesn’t know what words to say. She is inexplicably torn. She wants to be here, by her brother’s side, as she’s sure he needs her now more than ever. There’s another part of her that has her fingers shaking with the need to spill the blood of those that ripped the life from her clan. Then there’s a part that entirely blames herself. She should’ve kept the soldiers stationed there longer, should’ve made sure there wasn’t even the slightest hint of any danger. But the Red Templars were growing, attacking villages and_ human _settlements. What would people think if the Inquisitors had kept so many soldiers at an already well-fortified city? So, she’d sent some away, lowered the number of guards. It was what the human had been waiting for, evidently._

_Luckily, Leliana speaks. “There is a friend of mine, my most treasured friend really, who lost nearly her entire family in an act of cruel and senseless violence.”_

_It clicks for Aya, then. “You’re talking about the Hero of Ferelden? Cousland?”_

_Leliana dips her head in a nod. “Yes. She was—is—not violent by nature. She has always preferred her sword to stay sheathed when given the choice. Despite this, she told me that the first peaceful night she had since the loss of her family, was the night she killed the man responsible.” Aya’s heart pounds and Leliana begins stepping back, expression soft, understanding. “Do what you have to, Inquisitor. Find the peace you need.”_

 

 

“I advised, as is my job, no?” The answer is typical of Leliana, vague, but somehow still getting the message across. There’s a moment of tense silence, Cullen’s fists clenching, before Leliana steps aside, clearing the stairway. “Prepare your horse, Commander. I will make sure your duties are taken care of while you are away.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

* * *

He finds her halfway between Wycome and Skyhold. It’s on a simple path, cutting through grassy hills. The sun is shining and the long grass is blowing in the breeze while birds chirp in the background. It would be peaceful, were it not for the blood staining the white leather of her armor.

They stare at each other for a moment from their mounts. His eyes skitter over her form, nearly choking on his relief. Aside from the exhaustion rippling off her in waves, she appears fine. Her eyes are glassy, though, vacant as they stare at him.

He makes the first move by sliding off of his mount. He walks over to her, slowly, as if afraid to break her or be broken by her. She watches him, eyes following until her stops by her side. He holds his arms out and she slides down into them and he’s instantly pulling her to him. She allows him, clinging back with a strength few suspected someone of her small stature to have. She lets out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be” he responds, though he knows it’ll make little difference. She will always apologize and he will always do his best to ease the weight on her shoulders.

He sends a raven ahead of them to Skyhold. By the time they return—nearly a week later—word of the premature demise of the Duke of Wycome and many a Marcher is halted just as soon as it begins. Those who speak of it find their political life suddenly struggling and those who suspect the Inquisitor, or even had managed to witness it, and dare to open their mouths, find themselves facing credible rumors of possible assassination.

He doesn’t know if she found her peace. Her sleep is often restless and plagued by nightmares. Has been as long as he’s known her, though. He _does_ know, though, that she’ll be ok when she gives him a smile two weeks later that is small and quick, yet breathtaking in its sincerity.

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr](http://bxtgrl.tumblr.com/post/162018312292/when-the-world-crashes-down-but-youre-left). <3


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